Of Heart Or Hope
by it takes a village
Summary: The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt within the heart. Helen Keller
1. Part I

**Of Heart or Hope**

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me, not even the concept.

**Notes**: Sorry for the vague summary, this is just one of those stories where I want the reader to figure out what's going on as they read it. As well, I apologise in advance to anyone who's offended by my characterisation of Noah—it just fit with where I was going.

This originally was going to only be one part, but I've decided to split it into two. It has more dramatic value that way. ;) Enjoy Part I!

* * *

_These eyes, tho' clear   
To outward view of blemish or of spot,   
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot,   
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear   
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,   
Or man, or woman.   
Yet I argue not   
Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot   
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer   
Right onward._

**Sonnet XXII, _John Milton_**

Ivy Walker twirled until she was dizzy.

The colours of the landscape all blurred together to create one phenomenal unified sight. Her arms outstretched and reaching towards the sky, her untied shoes slipping on and off with the motion of her feet, her hair whipping around her face as she went around and around and around...

Exhausted, she collapsed into the soft grass and lay there, staring up at the feathery white clouds in the azure sky. She pretended she could see shapes in them, dragons and pearly castles, like in the stories her father once read to her. Sighing happily, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. It was a gorgeous day, and she was able to enjoy it from a different perspective this way, smelling and hearing the environment instead of seeing it. Spring was by far her favourite season, a time of blooming and birth and growth.

There had been an enormous downpour the night before, and the air still smelt slightly of the moisture suspended with it. She could feel the dampness of the grass slowly seeping into the back of her dress, but she did not care because it was beautiful and fantastic and she decided that this is what life should smell like _all the time_.

A rustling beside her drew her attention away from her thoughts. Her brow furrowed slightly as she turned her head in the direction of the noise, but she still did not open her eyes for she knew there were never any immediate threats in her village. A suppressed giggle confirmed her suspicions of who it was and she allowed to her features to relax.

She could hear Noah Percy coming closer until he loomed over her, his lanky figure blocking the sun. She knew this game well, and decided to indulge him, even though she had been quite content to lie in the grass and be at peace.

"Ah, it is such a beautiful day," she commented aloud, saying her words with an exaggerated cheerfulness. "It is so beautiful that I need not open my eyes, for I can enjoy it simply like this. With my eyes closed. Seeing _nothing_ that may be beside me." She heard him giggle again, this time hardly able to hold it within him as he moved closer to her still.

"Mmm," she continued, eyes still closed. "I think I may even _stretch_!" With that, she spread her arms out wide, her right side coming into immediate contact with Noah and she playfully shoved him back. "Oh my!" she gasped out, opening her eyes and locking them on her friend. "Why, it is Noah Percy, and I believe that I have just made him _it_!"

Noah squealed in delight and immediately jumped up and readied himself to pounce on her, when suddenly she looked behind him and gasped.

"Dear God, Noah, what is _that_? How disgusting!" she cried out, aghast, as she pointed to a space beyond his shoulder.

He whipped around, excited at the prospect of seeing something potentially repulsive, and Ivy was off. It took him a moment to register what had just occurred, even though it was an old trick she constantly played on him, and he let out a squeak of indignation before setting off to race after her.

Ivy, despite being inhibited by her dress and the fact that she was a girl (a problem only the other boys her age seemed to find with her), was the fastest runner in fifth year and she had a fair lead ahead of Noah. She looked behind her to see his progress and make sure he was not lagging too far behind, and before she could turn back around, she crashed bodily into another person. Both parties let out a shout of surprise before tumbling in opposite directions.

"I am terribly sorry," Ivy cried out, still sprawled on the ground and struggling to get up. She made it to her knees before she saw who she had bumped into and then ended up sitting right back down.

Lucius Hunt rubbed his head and eyed her curiously, staying seated on the ground. After a beat, he hoisted himself back up on his feet and picked up the hammer he had dropped. "You are lucky this did not strike you," he murmured, motioning to it as he hesitantly offered a hand to help her up.

She accepted his offer, saying nothing as he lifted her to her feet, shy suddenly and embarrassed at what she had just caused. It was bad enough Lucius already thought she was a silly little tomboy—she did not have to go proving him right by barrelling into him, all muddy and wet. She hazarded a glance behind her to see where Noah was, but he had already become distracted by a monarch butterfly, flitting through the grasses. She sighed, for sometimes it pained her that such a boy as he was her dearest friend, instead of the girls her age who thought she was too rough and the other boys who thought she was too girly. She looked back at Lucius, and he had not moved; instead, he regarded her with his stormy eyes, his sable hair tumbling over them quite fetchingly. He always had the ability to send a little tremor of something up her spine and cause her stomach to leap within her belly whenever he looked at her thusly.

"I am sorry, Lucius," she apologised again, gaining her voice back and smiling at him. "I was simply playing with Noah and lost track of where I was going."

"Never mind," he said softly, a quizzical half-smile on his lips.

"I shall be more careful next time," she added, noticing Noah had looked away from the butterfly and was now observing the two of them cautiously.

"Hopefully there will not be a next time." Ivy just barely heard his muttered remark, but it was enough. She looked away quickly, lest he see the overwhelming hurt in her eyes, and mumbled another apology before darting away again. Noah's spindly legs trotted over to where she stood and he looked at Lucius.

There was something within the depths of his fool's eyes that Lucius could not discern, but made him want to turn away all the same. He did not give in to the impulse however, and gazed back at Noah with the same intensity. Suddenly, the boy broke into a goofy grin and then took off after Ivy once more. Lucius admonished himself for thinking there was anything ill-intentioned in Noah's heart. He knew the real source of his discomfiture was the guilt he felt after seeing the distress in Ivy's eyes at his remark. Ironically, he had meant it as a joke, but knew the second it left his mouth that it had not come across thusly. He shook his head, berating himself as he made his way back to the shop.

* * *

Ivy ran until her lungs burned. She could hear Noah chasing after her, laughing gaily, but she could not bring herself to slow down for his sake. She just wanted to _run_. Until her knees wobbled, until her breath came out in gasps or not at all. But the village was smaller than Ivy's ambitions and soon she had to reduce speed for fear of entering the forest. Even so, she quickly stumbled into the outskirts and the looming woods stood almost directly before her, a deep slope disappearing into the depths.

"Ivy... Ivy," a breathless Noah approached, still giggling helplessly. "Shh, bad," he added, pointing the forest although he showed no fear.

Ivy panted, supporting her hands on her thighs. "Yes," she finally gasped out. "Yes, Noah. Bad. We should probably... head back." She expelled a large sigh as she finally caught her breath and straightened.

Noah continued to giggle. "Ivy, Ivy is It!" He punctuated this remark with a tap on Ivy's arm.

"Noah, now is not the time for games any longer," Ivy admonished. "We must be getting back. Do you see? The sun is already beginning to lower in the sky. Where has the afternoon gone?" she pondered the last part mainly to herself as she regarded the hazy sky. The sun shone brighter as it neared the horizon, and she had to shield her eyes against its brilliance. Then she lost her balance, just barely catching herself from falling for Noah had tapped her again, harder this time.

"It!" he cried happily, clapping his hands together.

"Noah! I said _no_!" Her voice was sharper than she intended, but she was already on edge from her confrontation was Lucius and his shove had startled her mightily.

Noah looked taken aback and already she felt guilty. It was not his fault that he was like that, and she should do her best to make him happy for so little went well in his life.

"Noah, I—" She began to apologise but the look in his eyes stopped her. "Noah?"

"Ivy must be It," he said quietly, looking at the ground in apparent submission. A chill shivered down her spine at the dangerous tone of his voice and sharp focus his eyes held even as they looked down. He then looked at her and she visibly flinched. His gaze was as cold as ice. "Rules must be followed. _Rules must be followed_!" He ended the last in a roar, and Ivy knew he was only repeating the mantra his parents had instilled in him countless times in the past, whenever they needed to justify locking him up in the Quiet Room or inflicting a beating. His tone startled her, but his eyes... his eyes terrified her.

"Yes, Noah," she agreed quietly, hoping to placate him with her soft smile. "Rules should be followed, when it is possible. Why do we not head back to the village and play there? It is safer there, and—and..." She broke off as his expression showed no sign of changing. Her friend had thrown tantrums in the past, that was nothing new, but the steely gaze he fixed her with then unnerved her. Suddenly, as swiftly as it had appeared it vanished and in its place was the happily naïve haze that always covered the dusty brown irises. Ivy was hard pressed not to breathe a sigh of relief.

"There, now," she said, as though something had ended even though she didn't really know what had begun, "we can head back." She started to push past him, but he grabbed her arms with alarming force and thrust her back where she was standing before. Then he closed his eyes and moved closer to her. "Noah, what—?"

"I am enjoying the day with my eyes closed!" he said loudly, attempting to repeat the words she had used earlier when playing with him.

"Noah, it is nearly evening," Ivy said, laughing nervously as she regarded the ever-sinking sun.

"My eyes, they are still closed!" he continued, as though he had not heard her. "I think I will now _stretch_!" And with that, he shot his arms out. Due to the close proximity of Ivy and the force with which he thrust out his arms, he ended up giving her a hearty shove.

With a startled cry, Ivy stumbled backwards and, hitting a root, completely lost her balance. She tumbled head over heels over the rocky knoll, disappearing further and further into the forest. At first Noah heard her cry out at every rock, root, or stone that scratched at her, but soon she was altogether silent. A soft, echoing thud could be heard with her eventual settling.

Noah laughed merrily, clapping his hands again a time or two. "Ivy, now come!" he cried out after a beat. But she did not answer him. "Ivy! Ivy is It! Come chase Noah!" He even ran a little ways, as a form of encouragement. She did not follow. "Ivy... Ivy must come." He giggled, although his furrowed brow and anxious gaze belied this seemingly happy reaction. "Ivy!" He began to wring his hands together. "_Ivy_!" The final shout was more of a wail, echoing off the trees and causing the birds nesting there to up and fly away.

* * *

Lucius had looked up from his work to regard the setting sun. He would be able to retire soon, and looked forward to the supper waiting for him at home. As he gazed at the horizon, he saw a section of the forest empty itself of birds. Curious, he put down his hammer. Something unsettling made his heart drop, but he did not think it had to do with Those We Do Not Speak Of. Something else worried him, caused anxiety to gnaw at his stomach. Without a second though, he exited the blacksmith shop and strode out. He knew where his feet were taking him, and he was powerless to stop it. Just as he was powerless to stop his fist from raising and knocking forcefully on the Walkers' door.

Kitty answered.

"Lucius," she breathed, leaning against the door frame and batting her lashes. "What a pleasant surprise."

Before Lucius could say anything, Mr. Walker appeared from behind his daughter. "Lucius. What can I do for you, son?"

"I realise this is odd, sir," Lucius began, swallowing heavily past the lump in his throat. He could feel his face flush. "But, is Ivy here?"

Mr. Walker looked surprised, and rightfully so. There he was, a seventeen-year-old young man, enquiring after this man's ten-year-old daughter. Kitty, meanwhile, had walked off in a huff.

"Um..." Mr. Walker still regarded him quizzically, but said nothing about it. "No, Lucius, she is not. I believe she is out with Noah. At least, that is where she was this afternoon." He looked at the sky then. "Although, it is getting darker now and Ivy knows the rules. She should be home shortly."

Lucius nodded, even more unappeased than before. "I know, sir, I saw them together earlier. And you are probably right. I merely needed to...uh, ask her something. About school. One of her friends...at school. Not—" Before Lucius could blunder his words further, he was interrupted.

"_Ivy_."

Both Lucius and Mr. Walker looked up at the sound of Noah, several yards away, walking in circles and mumbling to himself. The gnawing in Lucius' stomach grew into full-fledged bites.

"She is supposed to be _with_ Noah," Lucius said, more to himself than Mr. Walker. Even so, Ivy's father nodded.

"Yes..." They both continued to look at Noah, dumbfounded, until Mr. Walker finally found his voice.

"Noah!"

Noah jerked as though he had been hit and looked up at the two men in the doorway. "Ivy," he blubbered, tears collecting in his eyes. "Ivy, Ivy is It. Is It!"

"Where is Ivy, Noah?" It was Lucius that spoke this time, his fear growing with each passing second.

"Ivy is It, It, It-It-It-It-It!" He giggled madly, even as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Mr. Walker stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him. Lucius had already leapt off the porch and bounded towards Noah.

"Where is she, Noah? Where is Ivy? You must tell us!" Panicked now, Lucius tried to find some semblance of understanding or recognition in the daft boy's gaze. Noah raised his large eyes and regarded Lucius seriously.

"Bad," was all he said. "Ivy is in bad. Rules must be followed! Ivy, Ivy, rules."

"In bad? Rules?" Lucius looked helplessly at Mr. Walker, whose face had lost all colour as he stared at Noah. "He is not making any sense."

"Bad. Rules being followed. Where are we not allowed to go, Lucius? What is bad? What is against the rules?" Mr. Walker turned to Lucius then, the sheer panic evident in his eyes.

Lucius understood in a heartbeat. "The forest." The words were barely out of his mouth before he was sprinting out to the woods.

Mr. Walker was right behind him. "The forest is enormous, Lucius, how do we know where to look?" he cried as he tried to keep up.

"The birds," was all Lucius said as he continued to run. Mr. Walker did not respond to his cryptic remark; instead, he ran faster.

Soon, both men skidded to a stop at the edge of the woods. Lucius looked down into the dark slope in front of them. His heart stopped at the thought of little Ivy somewhere in there, with the sky darkening by the minute and Those We Do Not Speak Of lurking nearby. Without a second deliberation, he propelled himself into the thicket and began to slowly stumble down.

"Lucius, be careful!" Mr. Walker warned, even as he followed behind him.

"Ivy!" Lucius called out, willing his eyes to adjust to the dim light. "Ivy Walker, answer me!"

"Ivy!" Mr. Walker joined in the calls. "Ivy, this is your father! You answer us this minute, Ivy Elisabeth Walker!"

Both men continued to shout Ivy's name, and both were met with echoes and then silence.

"She is so small, so little," Mr. Walker murmured despairingly as his searching grew more desperate.

"What of Those We Do Not Speak Of?" Lucius murmured in return, standing stock still with his fear for Ivy.

"Do not worry about them," Mr. Walker replied distractedly as he continued to search. "We are safe."

"I was not worried for us," Lucius said quietly, staggering a bit further down the hill. Mr. Walker simply stood and watched him, before calling out his daughter's name once more.

A few more endless moments passed as they rustled in the now-darkness, silent except for intermittent shouts of her name. Suddenly, Lucius let out a loud cry of shock.

"What?" Mr. Walker raced over to where he stood. "What is it, what have you found?"

Lucius had bent over and was now straightening with his back to Mr. Walker who could see that he carried something. Someone.

"Ivy?" her father whispered, as Lucius turned and presented his comatose daughter to him. "Oh, dear God."

Alarm rang in Lucius' intense hazel eyes as he regarded Mr. Walker. "She is not moving," he said, hoarsely. "She is hardly breathing."

Mr. Walker looked at Ivy gravely for a moment more. Then he met Lucius' eyes. "Come. We must bring her back to the village."


	2. Part II

**Notes**: Thank you all for being patient, and special thanks to those who reviewed. Here's the second and final chapter, Part II. As always, enjoy!

**Warning**: There's one incidence of strong language in this chapter. If such things offend you, you may not want to read it.

* * *

_"The moment I heard my daughter's vision had failed her, __and that she'd forever be blind, __I was sitting in that chair. I __was so ashamed."_

**Edward Walker**

The bed all but swallowed her up.

Lucius looked at Ivy's petite frame in her parents' large bed, billowing sheets and pillows surrounding her. Her pale skin blended with the stark white covers, and it was only her strawberry-blonde curls that provided any contrast—but even they were partially covered by a white gauze strip wrapped around and around her head.

When Lucius had found her, she was lying limply on her side and his heart had stopped for believing she was dead. Her thin dress was tangled around her body, knobby knees sticking out and streaked with mud. One shoe was off and a stone's throw from where she lay. A delicate, now dirty, white sock covered her small foot. Tears rushed to his eyes, unbidden, as he let out a hoarse cry and dropped to his knees. He carefully lifted her, cradling her in his arms. Her head lolled into the crook of his shoulder and he settled her more fully against him, wishing he could somehow have protected her from all that happened. She was so little, just a baby still…

Blood darkened her curls and the rock to their left and now his shirt sleeve as well. Just as he heard Mr. Walker rushing towards them, Lucius noticed a slight stirring of breath leave her lips. He stumbled as he rose, knees weak with relief, and presented Ivy to her father.

Now she lay there, still unconscious. She had been for the past three days. Not a stirring of movement. Victor the physician had visited, had been in and out regularly, but there was not much he could do, not much anyone could do.

Except pray.

Noah had even come, blubbering all the while. No one suspected the boy of any foul play, but Lucius could not forget the way Noah had looked at him prior to the incident, as much as he tried to. He knew it was wrong of him, but Ivy lay there, maybe even _dying_ for Christ's sake! What was he supposed to think?

More than anything, he knew the real reason for his suspicion of Noah and his own hostile nature. He was being eaten, torn apart, ravaged by guilt. If only he had been kinder to her, if only he had not been such a useless fool with words, if only he had allowed her to tag along with him as she so often longed to. She was just a child, like a little sister to him really, and he had treated her poorly. Treatment which led to the circumstances she was in now. He could not help but feel that it was entirely his fault. Why not? It could have easily been prevented. If only—

"Lucius," a quiet voice interrupted his self-mutilating thoughts. Lucius turned in his bedside seat, to see his mother standing before him, Mr. Walker entering behind her.

"Come home, darling," his mother implored, placing her soft hand on his shoulder. "You have not slept in days. Come, if at least to wash and eat a proper meal."

Lucius was already shaking his head before she finished speaking. "I cannot, mother. What if she were to awaken? What if—" He just clenched his jaw and shook his head, unwilling to speak anymore dreadful words aloud.

"We are here for Ivy, Lucius." It was Mr. Walker that spoke this time. "Her mother and I, your mother, Kitty, the doctor. You need not remain at her bedside constantly. Go home, son. Recuperate. And then you may come back."

Lucius regarded the two of them wearily. Despite their gentle words, he knew they were teaming up against him and he was powerless to stop them.

"Fine. But I shall be back."

* * *

Ivy was still twirling.

And the colours were still blurring together, a haze of every shade imaginable in a whirlwind of spirit and emotion. This time, however, she was unable to stop. No matter how dizzy she got, she continued to twirl even when she was exhausted and wanted to give up.

It was a form of torture.

She could feel the nausea creeping up, and it was made worse by the disjointed sounds she was hearing as well. The creaking of floorboards, slamming of doors, cacophony of voices. She felt someone, very far away, touching her head. She knew the touch must have been soft, but it still felt as though she were being bludgeoned by a blacksmith's hammer. Blacksmith.

Lucius.

She could hear him, too. His voice softer than the rest. His voice the only one that did not cause her head to feel as though it was splitting in two. She could never quite hear what he was saying, but it was only the cadence of his voice that could soothe her spirit and allow her to rest, if only for a moment.

It was very odd, to be a prisoner of one's own mind. She was at a point beyond awareness. She felt as though her senses had been stripped from her and all that was left was whatever was within. Such profound thoughts for such a little girl. Even she knew she was too young to be experiencing such things.

Aside from the pain, she was also very frightened. She knew something was wrong with her, knew that the ones she loved were just out of reach, but had no idea how to break free from the oppressive chains holding her back. She wanted her papa to hold her, her mama to soothe her, Kitty to scold her for being foolish, and Noah—

Noah. Where did he feature in all that was happening to her? Should he be blamed? Of course not, the logical part of her mind insisted. He cannot help the way he is, he was merely playing. She had also been aware of his visit, and could feel the remorse radiating from him. It would not be right to blame him. And yet, she had difficulty deciphering right from wrong in the current state she was in. In fact, she almost _needed_ someone to be at fault. Needed there to be a finger of reproach pointed at someone.

If only to make it easier on herself.

* * *

"How can we stand idly by, Edward? How?" Mrs. Walker cried out to her husband, tears collecting in her eyes. "Our baby, my little girl, has been unconscious for almost a _week_! We can't get out of here, go back into town and get something for her? Bring in another doctor, with real medicine? What if there's an infection?"

"Keep your voice down, Tabitha," her husband pleaded with her, hazarding a glance around to ensure no one had heard her speak in such a manner or of such things. "I'm just as concerned about Ivy as you, of course I am. But we made a pact—"

"Oh, fuck the pact, Edward!" Tabitha interrupted, fire in her eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Tabitha!" In twenty-five years of marriage, Mr. Walker had never heard his wife utter a vulgar word.

"I don't care, I don't care who hears what. All I care about our daughter. The pact means nothing to me when my daughter is dying, and it should mean nothing to you either! You go into those towns, or else I will tell everyone who can listen about the secret of this village, and compromise everything we've built up until this point," she threatened, crossing her arms and daring him to defy her.

Edward looked down, defeated. He knew she was right. He would never be able to live with himself if Ivy… if anything happened to her. "Say nothing for now," he said quietly, at length. His manner of speaking reverted back to that which he had become accustomed to these past fifteen years. "I would think upon it in silence for a while. Then we will speak again of it."

She glared at him for a beat, then nodded shortly. "Think hard, Edward," was her final warning before she stalked away, angrily dashing at the tears that had settled on her cheeks.

Mr. Walker sighed heavily, the bone-deep sigh of a man who had known too many sorrows and was weighed down by too many burdens. Burrowing his hands deeper into his pockets, he took leave of the small room where his daughter lay comatose and made his way to his porch. He settled deeply in the rocking chair there and, placing his hand upon his mouth, thought as he said he would.

* * *

Ivy had to take leave of the place she was in. Beyond frightened now, she could feel the demons clawing at her, trying to take something away from her and pull her where she did not want to go. She could hear angry voices and did not know if they were coming from within her or without. All she knew was that escape was vital, and it had to occur then, at that very moment, or else it would not occur at all. Something would go very wrong.

Dredging all the strength she had in her, all the will in her meagre years, she attempted the supreme effort of opening her eyes. Again. Once more.

And failed.

* * *

Lucius nodded a sombre greeting to Mr. Walker, who sat on his front porch appearing deep in thought. The man barely paid him heed, and so Lucius took it upon himself to enter the cabin and see how Ivy was faring. On the way over, he had noticed the doctor taking leave of his own quaint house and knew that he would not have much time with Ivy before the man arrived. So, once in the house, he rushed over to Ivy's bedside and took her hand.

"Ivy Walker," he spoke, his face close to hers in order to ensure that she heard what he had to say. "I am very worried for you." He took a deep breath, willing down the tears that threatened to choke him. "I am sorry for the way I treated you; I never wanted… never wanted you to think that you were a bother. That I did not want you around. That day when you bumped into me, I… what I said was meant to be in jest. I want you to know that. You mean… you mean everything to me, little Ivy. I care for you as I would my own sister. I…" his voice broke. "I do not know what I would do, what this village would do, if you were lost to us. Understand that you also mean everything to everyone here, Ivy. Your mama, papa, Kitty, your other sisters—what would they do without you, sweet girl? We must take heart, and hope that you will return to us. Come back to us, Ivy." The tears could no longer be contained beneath his lashes and twin drops streaked down his cheeks. "Come back." Leaning forward, he kissed her feverish head softly.

Sniffling, he rested his forehead lightly beside hers, still loosely holding her hand. When her fingers first twitched he hardly noticed, assuming his own hand had grown tired of remaining in the same position for too long. The second twitch was accompanied by what sounded like a little groan, coming from somewhere deep within her. His head shot up at this and his eyes scanned her face and body for any further signs of movement. Sure enough, her eyelids began to waver. Once, twice. Her lips shifted and her head turned, ever-so-slightly. In shock, Lucius could do nothing but watch as she seemed to slowly regain life. Tears welled up once more in his eyes unchecked, as her own eyes flickered open, remaining at half mast, focussing on nothing. They began to flow in earnest when he saw her perfect mouth forming his name.

"Lucius."

* * *

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Ivy knew her eyes were open, could feel the lids pulled upwards, and yet she remained in the same inky blackness as she was before. She could feel Lucius' hand holding her own, firmly, but could see nothing beyond darkness. Her head throbbed, beat after agonising beat, and she felt as though she had once again taken control of her body; only now, faced with the pain of her injuries, she was not so sure she wanted such control any longer.

Lucius saw Ivy's eyes frantically darting to and fro, not staying in one place for even a moment, but before he could speak to her further, before he could grasp her attention once more, the doctor entered.

"And how is little Ivy Walker today?" he questioned in his usual manner, not expecting a response. He stopped short seeing Lucius there. And gaped at seeing Ivy awake and moving. "My goodness!" Quickly rushing over to her bedside, he astutely headed to the opposite side of Lucius, not daring to remove the boy from Ivy's side as she appeared to be gripping his hand as tightly as he held hers.

"Lucius," she breathed his name, barely a harsh whisper in the still room, eyes still uncontrollably flitting around as though she were frantically searching for something. "Lucius?"

"Ivy," he spoke abruptly, grasping her other hand as well. "Ivy, I am here. I am right here, to your left, by your side. Just look to your left."

Her head lolled to the left and her eyes immediately focussed right on him. "Lucius?"

"Yes," he practically gasped out in relief. "I am here. Ivy."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I do not see you. _I do not see you_."

"Ivy." The doctor demanded her attention this time. "Ivy, look to your right." He waited until she weakly obeyed. "What _do_ you see?"

"Nothing," she sobbed. "I see blackness when I look at you."

Victor and Lucius exchanged a glance. "What did you see when you looked at Lucius?"

"I saw colour, but I did not see him. I do not understand why he is a colour and not a person. What is happening?" Her voice grew progressively frailer as she spoke.

"What colour did you see, Ivy?" the doctor questioned. She did not answer him, instead focussing on Lucius. The only sense of light she had in the unimaginable darkness. "Ivy?"

"I do not see you," she murmured, her eyelids drooping. "Lucius. I do not…" She was unable to finish her thought as her lids shut and she appeared to fall asleep.

"She is overtired; her breathing indicates that she is but sleeping. We have not lost her again," he informed Lucius, seeing the anguished expression on her face.

"What of her sight?" Lucius demanded, unconsciously rubbing her limp hand. "What did she speak of?"

The doctor let out a heavy sigh. "As sometimes happens with such trauma to the head," he said after a beat, "the victims can…lose their sight. The Walkers were informed of such an outcome."

"Why was I not informed?" Lucius burst out before he could contain himself. Realising he had overstepped his bounds, he bit his lip and coloured slightly.

The older man chose to ignore this oversight. "I suppose I must be the bearer of bad news to Edward."

"Wait." Lucius was able to stop him, not so much with his words, but with the torment in his eyes. "Her sight. Will it… will it never return?"

Victor slowly shook his head. "It is not very likely," he said, finally. "Everyone in the village will just need to learn to cope with this new development. Ivy will need all the help she can get." Both men turned to look at the sleeping girl, both with heavy hearts. Lucius felt the doctor's hand on his shoulder as the man passed by him to head out the door, but all he could do was stare at Ivy and meditate on the injustice that had befallen her. Then he lay his head down and wept.

* * *

Edward Walker had seen the physician enter the house, and so now he barely turned when he heard the man open the door and exit, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden porch.

"Any news, doc?" Edward asked wearily, already knowing the answer and knowing what he was going to do about it.

"Er, yes, actually. She has awoken."

At this news, Mr. Walker shot to his feet out of the rocking chair and turned to face the doctor. "Truly? She is truly awake? I must go to her!" His movements were stayed by the other man's hand slowly pushing him back down into the chair.

"You may want to sit down for this, Edward."

**The End**.


End file.
